


Vega's Odds

by steamforge



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Fanart, Humor, Mass Effect 3: Citadel, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamforge/pseuds/steamforge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Vega has Shepard's Citadel apartment to himself. Comedy ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vega's Odds

**Author's Note:**

> For HM. Thanks to KB for the sketch.

“Thank you. Oh thank you, man.” James Vega gratefully pumped Commander Shepard’s hand hard as he shook it. “You won’t regret it.” 

Recovering his hand, Shepard already regretted it. ‘It’ being the use of his new apartment on the Citadel. Vega wanted use of the “big ass vid screen.” Game three of the biotiball finals was on and Vega didn’t want to miss his favorite team. “Are you sure you’ll leave the place as you found it?” Shepard asked. He knew the answer but felt obligated to ask anyway.

Vega ushered Shepard toward the door. “Yeah, yeah, sure, man,” he promised unconvincingly, “No _problemo_. Don’t worry, Shepard. You won’t even know I was here.” Through the open door, Vega noticed someone waiting for Shepard. “Oh, hey Garrus. You wanna watch the game?”

Garrus shot Shepard a look, almost asking to to be saved from saying ‘yes’. “Uh...Shepard and I…”

“...have urgent business down in Zarkera Ward,” Shepard finished. Garrus looked relieved.

“That’s cool,” Vega nonchalantly replied. He didn’t want company anyway, especially anyone who didn’t understand the fine intricacies of biotiball. Cortez knew biotiball but his team wasn’t playing today, besides, Shepard had Cortez running tests on the Kodiak. He waved to Shepard and Garrus through the doorway. “Have fun guys.” As the door to the apartment slid shut behind them, Vega held his breath for a beat, waiting to see if Shepard would come back. Looking through the door monitor, he saw Garrus tugging on Shepard’s arm. Garrus said something which made him turn around and leave. “Probably some lame C-Sec action,” Vega thought.

"Half an hour till game time," Vega said to no one. "Enough time to grab some munchies and _cervezas_." He darted off to the kitchen, knowing exactly what he wanted and where to find it. “This place is still stacked from that raging party Shepard threw,” Vega thought aloud. In fact, it had been nearly three days since Commander Shepard’s big party. Vega had become familiar with the kitchen after making the crew his _aubelita’s_ famous _huevos rancheros_.

Catching a glance of himself in the reflective fridge door, Vega took a moment to flex and admire himself. He had changed his usual tight fitting white tank top, which showed off his muscles and tats, to a tight fitting blue tank top, which showed off his muscles and tats that displayed the logo of his favorite Asari team. Vega had seen the Usaru Maestros play a charity game on Earth two years ago. He swore the team captain looked directly at him the stands and ever since, he was their biggest fan.

Proud of his efficient use of the kitchen, Vega made his way to the entertainment room. He deftly launched himself onto the black leather couch, closest to the vid screen. Sitting up, Vega went over his pre game checklist. "Remote: check. Chips and guac: check. _Cervezas_ : check, check, check, check, check and check." 

Three beers and half a bowl of chips into the pregame show, the front door chimed. Vega muttered under his breath, "Aw man, Shepard. Why you gotta do this?" The front door chimed again. Beer number four was hastily opened and Vega took a swig to get courage to tell Shepard to respectfully “fuck off, sir.”

Failing to look at the door monitor was Vega’s first mistake. Opening the door was his second. “Fuck off...ssssuu” was all that left Vega’s mouth as he trailed off. 

Waiting for Vega at the door, was a very large Elcor. As the door opened, Vega was hit by the smell of cinnamon and what he believed was cotton candy, but he wasn’t certain. The Elcor filled most of the space in the hallway leading up to the door. “SSShepard’s not here, man”, Vega slurrily told the Elcor.

No one would blame Vega for answering the door the way he did. Many strange beings have stopped by Shepard’s apartment in the last week to ask for help, bring gifts or try to get him to endorse their shops. Vega would soon find out, he was wrong about the Elcor on two accounts.

“Corrective statement: Commander Shepard is not the reason I am present”, the Elcor replied. “Fictitious identification: I am a real estate agent and was in the neighborhood.” 

“Huh?”, Vega wittily retorted.

“Hopeful inquiry: The temperature on the Citadel has increased by five percent. May I come in and be offered a refrigerated beverage?”, the Elcor asked. 

Vega looked at his chronometer, then at the Elcor, then back to his chronometer. The game was about to start and he didn’t have time to chat with strange aliens at the door. “What is it you wanted, again?”

Moving closer, the Elcor peered inside the apartment. The smell of cinnamon was stronger. “Coy response: I requested a refrigerated beverage, silly. Restated hopeful inquiry: May I come in?”

“Um, yeah,” Vega replied, not really looking at the Elcor but at the vid screen where the pregame show was ending. “You can come.” 

"Subtle innuendo:" the Elcor replied, "we will see who will come." The reply didn't even register with Vega. His attention was elsewhere. 

Vega sprinted back to the couch. “There are cold drinks in the fridge over there," he called out, waving in the general direction of the kitchen. "I got the game on so...”

Lumbering over to the kitchen, the Elcor opened the fridge and found a cold bottle. Vega hadn’t notice the Elcor bring the drink over to the couch. He was engrossed in the start of the game. Standing behind Vega and the couch, the Elcor gently blew on Vega’s neck, startling him. Vega’s eyes widened and spit out most of his drink. “Dammit!” he shouted, removing his beer soaked shirt, “that was a 50 cred shirt.”

“Seductive noise: Mmmmmmm.” Vega turned around to see the Elcor hold the drink to it’s body and close its eyes. “Incredulous statement: My name is Summer. Uninterested query: What’s yours?”

“Scoooorrre!!!!” the vid screen called out.

“Ay carajo!” Vega called out as he missed the first points of the game. 

Wiping his face off, Vega turned back to the Elcor, Summer, who was removing a strap of what he could only describe as a bright red harness. “Sultry inquest: Is the temperature above normal in this part of the domicile or is it just me?”

Leaping off the couch, Vega stumbled over the coffee table, toppling empty bottles onto the floor. “What the hell did you just say?” he demanded.

Slowly moving toward Vega, Summer slipped off the last strap of its harness. “Naughty command: Come on sailing officer, let us get freaky.”

Vega clamored to his feet and grabbed a bottle, which he brandished at the Elcor. “Hey man, I don’t want any trouble. I think it’s time you leave.”

“Hurt response” Summer pouted, “I am no man, I am all woman.”

“A powerful hit!” called the vid screen.

“Oh man. Ohmanomanomanoman.” Vega repeated, clasping his head with both hands. “Hey,” he pleaded. “Hey, um...I’m not...this isn’t.” He took a breath. “Look.” He surveyed the room, marine training kicking in to find a strategic way out of this situation. “This isn’t my place and I’m not into...whatever this is. You know who is?” he postured. Summer tilted her her head slightly. “Shepard,” Vega said. “Yeah. Shepard. He digs aliens, man. I mean, woman. I’m gonna go get him.” Summer tilted her head the other way. “You stay here,” Vega demanded as he bolted for the door.

“Uh oh, that’s gonna cost him,” the vid screen announced.

“Shepaaaaard!” Vega called out as he ran down the corridor and out to the main thoroughfare. “Sheeeepaaaard!!!!” His voice echoed down the street.

Had Vega not been slightly drunk and tearing down the street shouting at the top of his lungs, he may have noticed Garrus and Shepard laughing at a nearby cantina table. “You were right, Shepard,” Garrus conceded with tears in his eyes. “He found a way to lose his shirt.”

Shepard, wiping away his own tears, slapped Garrus on the back. “You know what the best part is?” he asked.

“That there’s a half naked Elcor in your apartment?” Garrus offered.

“No,” Shepard answered, shaking his head, “that the transports are all down for the game so Vega’s going to run the length of the station to get to Zakera Ward.”

Garrus and Shepard both laughed even harder. After they calmed down and took a few deep breaths, a Volus approached Shepard. “Care to buy me a drink, Earth Clan?” 

Shepard’s face drained of all color as Garrus fell off his chair laughing. Between cackles, Garrus pointed at Shepard and shouted, “Gotcha!”


End file.
